


A More Perfect Union

by eternaleponine



Series: Love Makes A Family [7]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Foster Care, Fourth of July, Marriage Proposal, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 15:27:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19466836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: As they prepare to adopt Aden, Lexa grows frustrated at how difficult the system makes it for non-traditional families.  Clarke proposes an obvious solution to the problem, but will Lexa accept?





	A More Perfect Union

"I would hate to be whoever's got you scowling like that," Clarke said, nudging Lexa's hip with her toes. 

Lexa sighed and set her laptop aside, pulling Clarke's feet into her lap. Clarke's current temp placement had her on her feet most of the day, and she said she didn't mind, that she would rather that than sitting in a chair all day, but Lexa had noticed the way she grimaced when she stood up to go to the bathroom a while ago. 

"That wasn't—" Clarke started to say, but broke off with a groan as Lexa dug her thumbs into one instep. 

"I know," Lexa said. She worked from the center of Clarke's foot to her toes, then back down to her heel and up her ankle. "And it's not any one person. It's the whole system."

Clarke tipped her head against the back of the couch, looking at Lexa through heavy-lidded eyes. "Which system?" she asked. 

"The foster care and adoption system," Lexa said. "Or really, the whole system of patriarchy and heteronormativity, but that feeds into the foster system and just... ugh." 

Clarke tried to pull her foot back, presumably so she could scoot closer to Lexa, but Lexa kept hold of it. She wasn't done yet, and she wasn't sure she was ready to give in to whatever Clarke had in mind that required decreasing the distance between them. "What now?" she asked. "Is it—did someone contact you?"

Lexa could hear the edge in her voice, how she was working to conceal her concern, or at least restrain it until she knew for sure whether there was something to be concerned about. "Nothing like that," she reassured her. "Nothing's _wrong_. I just don't understand why they have to make it so _complicated_ for families that don't fit the standard mold." 

This time Clarke succeeded in wresting her foot from Lexa's grasp, and she shifted to the center of the couch, taking Lexa's hand and lacing their fingers together before bringing it to her lips and pressing them to Lexa's knuckles. 

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Lexa asked. "You don't know where those fingers have been."

Clarke snorted. "I have a pretty good idea," she said. "Talk to me."

It wasn't a question, but it wasn't a command, either. If Lexa said she wasn't ready to talk about it yet, Clarke would let it go, at least for now, but it would still be out there, hovering like a storm cloud between them. If Lexa was going to sleep tonight, she needed to clear the air. 

"You remember how hard it was to find out what the rules were for foster kids meeting dating partners of their foster parents?" Lexa asked. 

Clarke nodded. "There weren't any, really, but we discovered only one adult in the home needed to be certified to foster."

"But both need to be certified to adopt."

"Which is why I'm taking the classes," Clarke said. "Even if I don't officially live here."

Which was another conversation for another time. This was – or might be – awkward enough without bringing up the fact that it seemed silly for Clarke to pay rent on a place that was less living quarters and more art studio at this point (although they did still sometimes rendezvous there, when Clarke had a day off and Lexa could sneak away from work...). Then again, there was no space here for an art studio, and Clarke needed _somewhere_ to spread out her canvases and paints and other supplies, so for now the arrangement worked. 

"And I love you for that," Lexa said. "I just can't help wondering – worrying – about..." She stopped, shook her head. She couldn't say it, because she didn't want Clarke to misunderstand. She didn't want her to think she was saying something she wasn't. 

"About what?" Clarke asked. She reached out with the hand that wasn't tangled with Lexa's and touched her cheek, nudging her chin gently until they were eye-to-eye. "Whatever you need to say, just say it," she said. "Trust me to be strong enough to take it. You don't need to carry everything yourself." 

Lexa pressed her lips together, sucked in a breath and let it hiss out through her nose. "You're right," she said. "I keep worrying that the fact that we're together will complicate things," she said. "Even if you're certified, and even if there are no homophobes involved in making the decision, there could still be questions about whether this is a stable enough household for Aden to be adopted into."

"Isn't that the point of the six-month waiting period?" Clarke asked. "To make sure that it _is_ a stable environment, and that the placement works for both the kid and the parents? Try before you buy?"

"Really?" Lexa asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Clarke shrugged, smiled. "Just trying to inject a little levity into the situation." The smile slipped away. "I know it's not funny. I know this is important to you. It's important to me, too." 

"I know," Lexa said. "But they're only evaluating me," she said. "Even though you're here all the time, when they're looking at the quote-unquote family unit, they're just looking at me and Aden. You're not..." She frowned. "And that's part of the problem. That's part of what's frustrating. You _should_ be included, because you're part of this family. You're in the picture. Literally." She gestured to the picture of the three of them from Mother's Day where it hung in a place of honor amidst her other family photos. "When it comes to the adoption... it will just be me. I've been searching and searching, and second parent adoption is a thing, like step-parents adopting their step-children, but legally, on paper, he would be my son." She looked at Clarke, blinking against the burning in her eyes. "Only mine." 

"I would still be here," Clarke said. "It wouldn't change anything."

"That's not the point!" Lexa said, her voice rising despite her efforts to be calm about this, to be rational. But family wasn't rational, _love_ wasn't rational, and that was what was at stake here, or at least that's how it felt. 

"That's not the point," she repeated more calmly. "The point is that if he's only mine, if my name is the only name on those papers, if anything were to happen to me, he would go back in the system! Even if he just got sick and for some reason I wasn't around, you couldn't authorize treatment. Legally, you would be nothing. No one. And that's _wrong_!" Lexa shook her head. "Yes, there are things that can be done legally, wills and power of attorney and I don't even know what all else, but why does it have to be so complicated? None of this should be this _hard_!"

Clarke was quiet for what felt like a very long time. She didn't move, but as the seconds ticked by, it felt like she was drifting farther and farther away, and Lexa tightened her grip on Clarke's fingers lest she slip away completely. Finally Clarke looked up, the faintest hint of a smile curving her lips and warming her eyes. "You realize you're ignoring the most obvious solution, don't you?" 

Lexa blinked, the frown that felt like it might permanently etch itself into her face deepening. "There _is_ no obvious solution," she said. 

"There is," Clarke said. "The problem is that we're not married, right? If we were, we could adopt him together."

"Yes," Lexa said, "but—"

"So we get married," Clarke said. "Problem solved."

 _Problem solved._ As if it was that simple. As if...

 _Was_ it that simple?

Could it be?

Lexa felt herself starting to shake. "Are you asking?" Her voice was barely a whisper. 

"Do you want me to be asking?" Clarke asked, then shook her head. "No. Yes. Yes, I'm asking." She slid off the couch and down on one knee, clasping Lexa's hand between hers. "Lexa Woods, will you marry me?"

Lexa knew the answer. She'd known the answer for a long time, even before it was a question asked. But she couldn't just... could she? They'd been together for less than six months! They couldn't just...

Could they?

She swallowed, opened her mouth, closed it and swallowed again. "Are you sure?" she asked. 

Clarke laughed. She actually laughed, and clutched Lexa's hand tighter, not getting up off the floor but pressing herself closer, and it couldn't have been comfortable, Lexa's knees dug into her chest like that, but if Clarke felt it she didn't let it show. She just pressed her lips to Lexa's hand again, to the knuckle just above where a ring would go if she... if they...

"Lexa," she said, her voice soft and warm as a blanket fresh out of the dryer on a cold winter's day, tinged with lingering laughter and love, so much love Lexa didn't know if she would take it all in. "I half thought you were going to propose on Valentine's Day, with all that fuss you made." She rubbed her thumb over Lexa's ring finger, and how was it possible to be so acutely aware of such an innocuous touch on one small patch of skin? "And if you had..."

"... if I had...?"

"I would have said yes," Clarke told her. "When something is right, you just know it." 

"That's what Luna says," Lexa said. 

"You don't agree?"

"No. I mean yes. I do. I didn't..." Her free hand shook as she reached out to tuck a stray strand of Clarke's hair back, letting her touch linger as it traced the shell of her ear and along her jaw, tipping her face up. "Then I met you."

The lines that had started to form between Clarke's eyebrows smoothed away and her smile returned. "Then marry me," she said. 

"Okay," Lexa said, and then she was laughing too, because who answered a marriage proposal with 'okay'? Her, apparently. If Anya found out, she would never live it down. "Yes," she said, leaning down to kiss Clarke. "Yes, Clarke Griffin, I will marry you."

* * *

It was past late and into early, and Lexa was drained, spent, exhausted even, but not remotely tired. She ran her fingers through Clarke's hair and turned to press a kiss to the crown of her head where it rested on her shoulder. Clarke was rubbing her ring finger again, gazing at their joined hands contemplatively. 

"I'll get you a ring," she said. 

"I don't need a ring," Lexa said. 

"I _want_ to get you a ring," Clarke said. She tipped her face back to look at Lexa. "Would you not wear it?"

There was no judgment in the question, no pressure to answer either way, and Lexa realized then that she hadn't felt any when Clarke proposed, either. She could have said no, and Clarke would have accepted it, and nothing would have changed. They would still have loved each other, still wanted each other, and they would have found another way to make their family work. Was that strange? Or was it beautiful? 

"I would," Lexa said. "I'm not opposed to the idea; I just don't _need_ one." She looked at Clarke. "Would you wear a ring if I gave you one?"

"Of course," Clarke said. "I would probably take it off while I was painting, though." 

"I could live with that," Lexa said. "I actually have a ring, but... it's honestly kind of ugly." She nuzzled Clarke's cheek. "It was my mom's. Luna got most of her jewelry – not that she had a lot – but for some reason she gave me one particular ring." She smiled wryly as realization struck. "Maybe she knew I was the one most likely to need the sort of ring one might propose with." 

"Maybe she did," Clarke agreed. "Can I see it?"

Lexa groaned. "That would require me to get up."

Clarke tightened her arms around Lexa. "It can wait 'til morning then."

"It _is_ morning," Lexa pointed out.

"I don't see the sun," Clarke said, "so it's not morning yet." 

"We should probably sleep then," Lexa said. 

"Probably," Clarke said. "But I have a better idea."

* * *

They got out of bed long enough to get Aden off to school, then fell right back into it. Clarke had an afternoon shift, and Lexa had texted her boss to say she wasn't going to be in until later, but Lexa wondered if either of them would actually make it. 

"Do you want a wedding?" she asked, tracing her fingers idly up and down Clarke's spine, enjoying the way Clarke shivered and pressed against her every time she reached the small of her back. "All of the pomp and circumstance?"

"Isn't 'Pomp and Circumstance' for graduations?" Clarke asked, arching her back and grinding her hips against Lexa. 

"You know what I mean," Lexa said. "The ceremony, the dresses, the flowers..."

Clarke pressed her face into Lexa's shoulder, her breath hot against her collarbone. "Maybe some of the pomp and a little of the circumstance?" she suggested. "At the very least, I want a cake!" 

"We can definitely have cake," Lexa said. "I never really had big wedding dreams, and given the time frame..." It was late May now, and Aden would be eligible for adoption in mid-August. Trying to pull off a full wedding in less than two months felt like it was just asking for trouble.

"I hadn't thought about that," Clarke said. "The timing. So maybe just a city hall ceremony, and a backyard-type reception?" She looked up at Lexa like she wasn't sure how well the suggestion would go over. 

"Perfect," Lexa said, relieved that they were on the same page. "I'm sure we can get my sisters to help with the planning – or at least Luna. Maybe..." She lit up. "We have a lake house my mom left to us to share. Every year we have a Fourth of July party up there. Maybe—"

"We can co-opt it?" Clarke said, grinning. "I like the way you think." She pushed herself up to kiss Lexa, and conversation ceased.

* * *

"So... the ring?" Clarke asked, when they were finally up and shower and dressed. 

"Oh, right," Lexa said. She went to her dresser and found the small jewelry box – now mostly empty – that her mother had given her way back when she was a kid. At the time, it had been filled with a lot of cheap plastic stuff. Lexa still had some of it because of the memories it held, but there was very little of anything but sentimental value. She found the ring box tucked in the bottom and pulled it out, flipping open the lid and holding it out for Clarke to see.

"The stones are nice," Clarke said, the lilt in her voice betraying the fact that she had doubted Lexa when she said that the ring was kind of ugly, but now she understood. 

"I know," Lexa said, smiling at her. "I won't make you wear it."

"May I?" Clarke asked, and Lexa nodded, so she plucked the ring from its velvet bed and examined it, her forehead creasing as she examined it from all angles. "Are you... I know it was your mom's, but are you... attached to it?"

Lexa frowned. She could tell Clarke had an idea, and she knew that Clarke would never do anything that she thought would hurt Lexa. "Only because it was my mom's," she said. "I don't remember her ever even wearing it; I think it might have been a family heirloom or something."

"So you wouldn't be opposed to... transforming it?" Clarke asked. 

Lexa took a minute to consider. She never wore the ring, and never would. It sat in its box, in another box, on her dresser, and had for years. Until Clarke mentioned rings, she'd mostly forgotten it even existed. Would she be upset if it no longer existed in its current form? "No," she said. "I'd like the stones, though."

Clarke nodded quickly. "You can have them. The setting... I have an idea."

"I trust you," Lexa told her, and she knew Clarke knew how big of a deal that was. Those words were, in some ways, harder for her to say than 'I love you'. Which was probably why Clarke was looking at her like she was seriously considering tearing her clothes off all over again. But after a few tense seconds she stepped back, nestling the ring back in its box before brushing a quick kiss to Lexa's lips. 

"I'll see you tonight," she said.

Which was only a few hours away, but Lexa could tell already that they were doing to be the longest few hours of her life.

* * *

At dinner the next Sunday, Lexa cleared her throat. "There's something we need to tell you," she announced. The clink of dishes and rattle of cutlery ceased as everyone turned to look at her. Even Jake, if only for a second. Aden straightened in his chair, already fighting back a grin. They'd told him about the engagement the day after it happened, and Lexa didn't think she'd ever seen him smile so broadly, or for so long. If she'd had any doubts about whether or not they were doing the right thing, his unabashedly enthusiastic response had erased them. 

"Well...?" Tris prompted, impatient after only a few seconds pause. 

"Clarke and I are getting married," Lexa said. 

For a second, nothing happened. No one even breathed. And then the whole table exploded.

"Yesssss!" Adria hissed. "Flow-er girl! Flow-er girl!"

"Ha!" Anya said. "I knew it!" She looked at Luna. "You owe me ten bucks." She looked at Lexa. "Wait. Who asked who?"

"Clarke asked me," Lexa said. "Why?"

"Twenty bucks," Anya said, pointing at Luna. "Pay up."

Luna rolled her eyes. "Can it wait until after dinner?"

"As long as you don't try to weasel out of it," Anya said. 

"You were _betting_ on us?" Clarke asked. She sounded like she was trying not to laugh. 

"Yup," Anya said. "Luna was sure that Lexa would propose on Christmas Eve. Under the mistletoe. Because she's a sentimental sap. I said no way, they'll never make it that long. I give them six months, but Clarke will have to be the one to do it. So we put ten bucks on the when, and ten bucks on the who, and I won both." 

"Congratulations," Lexa said dryly. 

Adria had been bouncing in her chair ever since the announcement, but finally couldn't contain herself anymore and got up, coming around the table and wedging herself between Lexa and Clarke. "I get to be the flower girl, right?" she asked. "You _promised_." 

Had she? Lexa searched through her memories, finally landing on the party they'd thrown on Adria's adoption day, and how her niece had asked if she was allowed to love Clarke, and when Lexa confirmed that she could, she'd asked if Clarke would be her aunt, too, someday, and could she be in the wedding? And Lexa had said yes. If there was ever a wedding, Adria would get to have a role in it. 

Lexa glanced at Clarke, who gave her a look that clearly said that she didn't have any more idea how to handle this than Lexa did. "I did promise," Lexa said after a moment. "I don't know if we're going to have a flower girl, but we will make sure that you have a very special part to play, okay?" 

"Okay!" Adria said, throwing her arms around Lexa, and Lexa breathed a sigh of relief. Even with a city hall ceremony, they could find something for Adria to do. They could probably find some role for her at the reception as well, to make sure she felt important and included. "Do I have to wait until after to call Clarke Auntie?" she whispered, not all that quietly.

"That would be a good question to ask Clarke," Lexa whispered back.

Adria twisted around to face Clarke, one arm still twined around Lexa's neck. "Can I call you Auntie Clarke now, or do I have to wait?" she asked. 

"I think it's okay if you start now," Clarke said. "Practice before the big day." She winked, and Adria giggled. 

"Did she give you a ring?" Tris asked, looking at Lexa. "Wait, did you give her a ring? Who gives who a ring?" 

"Not yet," Lexa said. "We're both giving each other rings, but they're still in the works. It was a little spur-of-the-moment." 

Tris rolled her eyes. "When will they be done? Will you have them next week?"

"I hope so," Lexa said. 

"We should," Clarke added.

Tris rolled her eyes again and grumbled, because saying you were getting married was boring if you had nothing to show for it. Then she perked up. "Can I help you pick out dresses?"

"Sure," Clarke said easily. "I would be honored to have you as part of my entourage."

Lexa looked at her. They hadn't talked about dresses. Were they doing dresses? But she guessed they would have to wear _something_ , and even if they weren't making a big fuss about the ceremony, people would expect them to put in at least some effort for the reception. Which meant dresses. "So would I," she told Tris. "Not at the same time, obviously."

" _Obviously,_ " Tris said. "This is gonna be _awesome_."

* * *

Lexa couldn't stop staring at the ring. She had picked it up from the jeweler during her lunch break, and she'd had the box propped open on her desk ever since. As promised, Clarke had given her the stones from her mother's ring, and Lexa had found a jeweler – she suspected the same jeweler Clarke was working with, from the way he chortled to himself when she came in and asked what he could do with the stones – who was more than happy to work them into a new setting. He'd called this morning to say the ring was ready, and Lexa had almost cried when she saw it, because it was more beautiful than she could have imagined. It was perfect.

There was a part of her that wanted to call it a day, just pack up her things and leave, because she didn't want to wait even a minute longer to put the ring on Clarke's finger. But Clarke was at work, too, and as much as Clarke might appreciate Lexa showing up and getting down on one knee, Lexa doubted her employers would. Especially considering how unlikely they would be to be able to keep their hands off each other afterward. So it would have to wait until later.

But that didn't mean Lexa would get any work done. It was Friday afternoon; nothing important ever got accomplished on a Friday afternoon. She found herself constantly clicking away from her current project to scroll through bridal sites. She still had to find a dress, after all, and she _had_ promised Clarke a cake...

Others started to head out, giving Lexa leave to close her laptop and stow it for the weekend. If she had to, she could access work things from her personal laptop, but more and more she was refusing to do so unless it was an absolute emergency, or she actually _wanted_ to (which was rare, but did happen occasionally when inspiration struck at odd hours and off days). For so long she had lived to work. Now she worked to live, and every time she enforced the boundaries between the two, she felt a little better, a little stronger, a little more certain that she was finally on the right track.

She picked up Aden from school and they did the shopping as usual. When Clarke got home, they were already elbow-deep in the pizza-making process. Clarke wrapped her arms around Lexa from behind, pressing a kiss behind her ear and whispering, "I have your ring."

"I have yours, too," Lexa said. "Should we...?" She flicked a glance at Aden, who was stretching dough out on a pan. 

"We should probably wait," Clarke said, sounding like she was pouting a little. 

Lexa nodded, feeling slightly sulky herself. But as much as she loved Aden, this wasn't a moment she wanted to share with him. So she would have to be patient... although she couldn't help hoping that maybe the end of the school year was proving to be exhausting and he would call it an early night. 

Maybe he sensed their impatience, or maybe he really was just tired, but after pizza and a few episodes of the show they were currently binging, he got up of his own volition to get ready for bed. Most nights he just called good night and disappeared into his room, but tonight he came back into the living room and shyly, tentatively gave them both hugs. 

"I love you," Lexa whispered into his hair, her arms tight around him. She felt him freeze, just for a second, before he nodded and pulled away. 

"Good night," he said, a little subdued, before shutting his door. Lexa wondered if maybe she'd overstepped, pushed things too far, too fast, but what she'd said was true and she wanted him to know it. He needed to hear it, even if he wasn't ready to say it back, or maybe even to believe it. She remembered what it was like, the first time her mom had said those words, and how unsettled they'd made her feel, and yet they'd also served as an anchor, pinning her in place in her home and family. She hoped they would do the same for Aden. 

When she finally looked away from Aden's door, she found Clarke on her knee in front of her again, an open ring box in her hand. For a second, Lexa thought Clarke had somehow managed to grab the one that was meant for her, until she realized the stone was the wrong color.

"Oh my god," she breathed, and got up to retrieve Clarke's ring, opening it to show her. 

"Oh my god," Clarke echoed, her smile turning to a grin turning to a giggle. "That asshole! That amazing, perfect, awesome _asshole_!" In front of them was all the proof Lexa needed that they had, in fact, been working with the same jeweler. The rings were, with the exception of the center stone, identical. 

"May I?" Lexa asked, taking Clarke's ring from its box and holding it in trembling fingers. Clarke held out her hand and Lexa slipped the ring into place. At its center the deep blue sapphire from her mother's ring glittered, surrounded by four small diamonds. The setting made the diamonds look like little leaves. 

She held out her own hand, and Clarke slid her ring onto Lexa's finger, pressing a kiss to the knuckle. Her stone was a blueish green, some special kind of sapphire which Clarke claimed was exactly the shade of her eyes when she was happy and the sunlight caught them just right. 

Lexa pulled Clarke into a kiss, and then into her – their – bedroom for another, and another. "I can't wait," she whispered against her lips, "to be able to call you my wife."

* * *

"Hello, beautiful," Lexa murmured, brushing her lips against the side of Clarke's neck. 

Clarke's head tipped to the side, exposing the column of her throat to Lexa as she leaned back into her embrace. "You better be talking to the painting," she said, and Lexa could hear the laughter in her voice. "I've been slaving over it all morning."

"Of course I'm talking about the painting," Lexa lied. She was sure the painting _was_ beautiful, but the truth was she hadn't even looked at it. She didn't look at it now, either; she was too busy unbuttoning the oversized shirt Clarke wore for a smock and peeling it back to expose her shoulder, peppering it with kisses. "All the more reason to take a break." 

Clarke's fingers, made clumsy by the distraction of Lexa's breath in her ear and the heat of her mouth on her skin, started on the buttons from the bottom, meeting Lexa halfway so the shirt fell open, and she guided Lexa's hands to her breasts.

"Maybe we should..." Lexa breathed, but Clarke was already on it, leading Lexa toward her bedroom, stumbling a little when Lexa let one hand drop to her zipper, easing it down as they walked, dipping her fingers under the elastic of Clarke's panties. 

"Fuck, _Lexa_ ," Clarke hissed, biting back a groan as the tip of one finger found her clit. She shuddered and braced herself against the doorframe, and Lexa shoved Clarke's jeans down her hips and began to rub, gentle circles and harder strokes, grinding against her from behind without realizing what she was doing, so that Clarke's body was trapped, encircled, and all she could do was shudder and curse as Lexa brought her to climax, quick and intense enough to turn her knees to Jell-O. 

"Unfair," she said. "Un. Fair." She twisted in Lexa's arms when Lexa finally slipped her hand back out of her pants, kissing her roughly before giving in to the wobbliness of her knees and sliding down the length of Lexa's body. Clarke shoved Lexa's skirt up and yanked her underwear down, and Lexa barely had time to get her back to the wall before Clarke's tongue was between her legs, and god, _fuck_ , revenge had never been sweeter...

The second time was softer, slower, clothes off and in bed, and Lexa marveled at how it was possible for it to still feel like Clarke's body beneath, against, on top of her own was a miracle, a revelation, when they had spent so much time together, learning each other inside and out. The mere thought of their wedding night, only a couple of weeks away, set her nerves on fire. 

Clarke's fingers teased along her ribs and her breath ghosted against her collarbone, and Lexa hooked her leg over Clarke's, pulling her closer and letting her hands start to wander again. Clarke looked up and their eyes met, and then their lips in a heated kiss. They pressed hard against each other, each trying to get the upper hand, and Lexa was winning when they were jerked out of the moment by a knock on the door.

"Who—" Lexa started to say, but Clarke silenced her with a nip to her bottom lip.

"Ignore it."

The knock came again, and Clarke growled. "Go. Away." She tried to go back to kissing Lexa, but Lexa turned her face away.

"Wait," she said. "They're at the _door_." Which shouldn't be possible, without whoever it was buzzing first to be let in. Maybe it was one of the other people in the building, but why would they knock unless it was important? From everything Clarke had said, the only interaction she ever had with the people in her building was the occasional hello in passing; they wouldn't just pop over to chat. 

Clarke looked ready to dismiss it, but the knock came a third time, followed by a voice. "Clarke?"

"Mom?!" Clarke was up and out of bed in an instant, scrambling to find her clothes. Lexa knew she should do the same, but she felt frozen in place, and anyway she didn't want to get in Clarke's way. After several emergencies caused her return to be pushed back, they had known Clarke's mother was finally arriving back in the US today, but they weren't supposed to meet until later, for dinner. What was she doing here _now_?

"Just stay here," Clarke said, rushing out of the room tousle-headed and barefoot, wearing one of Lexa's t-shirts that had been left there Lexa wasn't even sure how many weeks ago, and no bra. "I'll be right back."

Lexa sat up, looking around for her own clothing, but mostly straining to hear what was happening at the door. She slipped her underwear back on and crouched by the bedroom door, which Clarke had left open just a crack – probably not intentionally – as she fastened her bra. 

"Mom, I thought—"

"I got an earlier flight," Dr. Griffin – Abby – interrupted. "I wanted to surprise you."

"Well, I'm definitely surprised," Clarke said, "but I'm also in the middle of something, and—" She cut off, and Lexa didn't know why. Her muscles twitched with the urge to move, to go out there and—

A second of silence, and then, "Oh Clarke, I wish you would let me help you..."

Lexa didn't need to be able to see her to know that Clarke was bristling, and the desire to join her, to get out there and defend her, multiplied. "There's nothing wrong with this place, Mom," she said. "But if it's any consolation, I barely live here anymore."

A pause. "Where do you live then?"

"At Lexa's place," Clarke said. "With her and our—her son."

"Who's Lexa?"

Lexa's heart clenched. Clarke had told her mother about her, about them... hadn't she? She had to have. It had been six months, and even if they didn't talk frequently, there was no way that in that time Clarke hadn't mentioned her... was there?"

"Mom! I've told you about Lexa! We're going to dinner with her tonight!" 

"You told me that you were seeing someone," Abby said, "but you didn't say anything about living together. Or that she has a child. Clarke..."

"Don't," Clarke said. "Don't look at me like that." 

"What, like I'm concerned? I _am_ concerned, Clarke! This is the girl – woman – you met back at Christmas?"

"Yes, but—"

"Six months isn't that long, Clarke, to really get to know someone. And you know you have a tendency to leap before your look, to just jump right into something without considering the consequences. And when there's a child involved—"

"His name is Aden," Clarke said. "He's thirteen."

Lexa could practically hear Abby mentally doing the math and arriving at the conclusion that Lexa would either have had to be a teen mom or be significantly older than Clarke, and not being sure which would be the worse option. 

"She's had him as a foster son since February," Clarke said. "We'll adopt him in August, if everything goes well."

"You mean _she_ will—"

"No," Clarke said. "I mean 'we'. We're engaged, getting married in a few weeks. The reception is on the Fourth of July. You're invited, if you want to be, but it sounds like maybe—"

"Don't put this on me," Abby said. "Don't try to make me the bad guy. You are my daughter and—"

"I'm an _adult_ ," Clarke said. "I am fully capable of—"

"But you don't _think_!" Abby snapped. "You just _act_! You're so much like your father sometimes, and—"

"And that's a bad thing?!" Clarke demanded. "I thought you loved him!"

"I did - _do_ \- love him. That doesn't mean I want you to follow in his footsteps when it comes to choosing the path of most resistance, making things hard for yourself when they don't have to be. I'm not saying you don't love her, but—"

"No, Mom. No 'but'. Six months or six years... hell, six _weeks_ , and I already knew that she was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Because she makes me happy. For the first time since Dad died, I am honestly, genuinely happy. Because for the first time since Dad died, I have someone in my life who has never once wanted me to be anyone other than exactly who I am, and who loves me exactly as I am." 

To Abby's credit, she didn't try to tell Clarke that she loved her as she was, that she wouldn't, didn't want to change anything about her. Because they both – all – would have known it for the lie that it was. "I'm glad that you're happy," she said, just before the silence stretched to its breaking point. "I just worry. You get yourself into these situations and—"

"She's – they're not a _situation_ , Mom. They're a family. They're _my_ family. And I hope you'll give them a chance. But if you can't do that, if you think that's too much to ask, tell me now. Because I'm not going to let you hurt them, or sow any seeds of doubt. You either accept this – them – _me_ , or you don't. It's your choice."

* * *

"I'm sorry," Clarke said, when her mother was gone and she had crawled back into bed with Lexa, burrowing against her. "I should have—"

Lexa shook her head. "You don't have anything to apologize for," she said. "You didn't do anything wrong." 

"I did," Clarke insisted. "I should have told her we were engaged. I should have told her about Aden. I should have—"

"Why?" Lexa asked, pushing Clarke's hair back behind her ear and stroking her temple with her thumb. She wasn't going to pretend that it hadn't hurt a little when it had become clear Abby hadn't known about the engagement prior to that moment, but it was nothing to what Clarke must have felt, having her mother tell her she was making a mistake, that she couldn't possibly know her own heart or what was best for herself. Which maybe wasn't exactly what she'd been saying, but it was close enough. 

"So she could have had whatever reaction she was going to have without you having to hear it," Clarke said. "So she would have had time to process it before showing up here... or maybe not showing up at all." 

Lexa tightened her arms around Clarke, not knowing what to say to that. Would it have been better for Abby to just not show up, rather than Clarke having to meet her disapproval face-to-face? It would have been one thing if it had truly just been concern; it wasn't as if it wasn't completely unwarranted. But Abby hadn't been here, hadn't been party to the relationship's development, didn't know – and seemed to not want to know – who Clarke was now, didn't know Lexa at all, and certainly didn't know who they were together. 

"Maybe," Lexa said finally. "But she's here now, so we deal with it. Together. Because yes, she's here, but so am I, and I'm not going anywhere." 

"Thank you," Clarke murmured, her lips brushing against the place where Lexa's pulse beat a little harder than usual in her throat. "I don't know why I expected her to be any different. I can't change her any more than she can change me. And I won't let her change me, because I _like_ who I am. Especially when I’m with you."

Lexa nodded, her nose brushing Clarke's. What Clarke had said about Lexa not wanting her to be anyone but herself was true in reverse as well. Clarke had never expected her to change, but being with Clarke had changed her nonetheless. "With you, I am the best version of myself."

"Exactly," Clarke said. "When she meets you, she'll understand."

"I hope so," Lexa said. _No pressure._

* * *

_This is it,_ Lexa thought, pressing her hand to her stomach as if that would somehow quell the butterflies. It seemed silly to be nervous; all she had to do was say a few words, sign a piece of paper, and it would be done. She and Clarke would be married. They didn't even have to worry about the reception until tomorrow, and her sisters and some of Clarke's friends had banded together to make sure that there wasn't a single detail of that they needed to concern themselves with, either. 

_You can do this,_ she told herself. 

And then she saw Clarke, radiant in a white dress that hugged her curves, and all doubt evaporated, the butterflies in her belly gone without a trace. She walked over to her and slid her hand into Clarke's and squeezed, and Clarke squeezed back, smiling at her in that way she had that lit up her entire face and turned her eyes three shades brighter. "I love you," she whispered. 

"I love you too," Lexa whispered back, and they made their way down the short courtroom aisle together, holding on to each other with one hand and their bouquets with the other. A little pomp, and just a touch of circumstance. She was smiling so wide her cheeks hurt, but she couldn't stop, and she didn't want to.

They turned and faced each other, only half listening to the words the official spoke until the all-important question: 'Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?'

"I do," Lexa said.

"I do," Clarke echoed.

"Do you have rings to exchange?" the official asked.

Adria stepped forward, shoulders back, standing as tall as she could, and presented them on a little pillow. Clarke had seen the rings, but Lexa hadn't, and she still didn't know what had become of the setting for her mother's ring, but Clarke assured her that it had been put to good use. As Lexa untied the bow on the pillow and set the two circles of metal free, the answer was still not readily apparent, and Lexa knew she would have to wait to ask.

Her fingers shook, just a little, as she slipped Clarke's ring onto her finger, where it fit perfectly against her engagement ring, and then extended her own hand for Clarke to do the same. 

"I now pronounced you married. You may kiss your bride!"

Lexa leaned in, and Clarke's lips met hers, and it was all the magic of that first kiss all over again, and many of the same people watching, with a few additions... including Clarke's mother, who Lexa suspected still had some doubts, but she was trying, and that was something. For now, that was enough. 

They walked back down the aisle to clapping and cheers of the closest of their friends and family, and out into the hall to make way for the next happy couple. After they'd accepted the hugs and kisses and congratulations of their witnesses, Lexa finally looked down at her ring. It appeared to be a simple band at first, but when she looked closer, she saw that there were actually three thin strands of metal twined together to form it. She looked at Clarke, head tipped in question.

"Your mom's ring," Clarke said softly, "and part of my dad's watch, which doesn't work and doesn't fit. I had them resize the band, which gave enough to melt down to make this." 

"And the third?" Lexa asked. 

Clarke looked at Aden. "A necklace of his mom's," she said. "I told him what I was doing, and he gave it to me. He said he gave it to her for her birthday one year, and she wore it every day." Her voice rasped slightly, and she swallowed. "He said—"

But Lexa didn't wait to hear what he said. She broke away from Clarke and went over to Aden, who was standing nearby, maybe close enough to hear, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Aden, you didn't—"

"I wanted you to have it," he said softly. "If she's not here to wear it... someone should."

"But it's not—"

Aden shook his head. "It's better this way," he said. "When I would look at it... it just made me think of what I don't have anymore. Now... now it's something new. Like I have something new. Not better or worse, just different." He shrugged. "And I still have pictures, just like I still have memories. So it's okay. It's our family, together, and nothing can pull us apart. Which is what this is all about, isn't it?"

Even if Lexa had known what to say, she wouldn't have been able to speak for the lump in her throat. So she just nodded, and hugged him, and then opened her arms when Clarke approached to hug her, too. Because Aden was right, and how could a thirteen-year-old be so wise? This was what it was all about.

* * *

"Are you sure you'll be all right?" Lexa asked Aden. "If you'd rather—"

"I'm sure!" Aden said, rolling his eyes just a little. "I'm not a baby, you know. I'm not Jakey. And I'll be with Luna and Derrick and Anya and everyone else. It's not like I'll be alone." 

"Okay, okay," Lexa said, holding up her hands in surrender before pulling Aden into a hug, half laughing, half sighing as she pressed her cheek to his head. How much longer would she be able to do that, she wondered. He was growing fast; they'd had to buy him all new shorts for the summer because he'd outgrown the ones he'd had leftover from the previous year. Lexa didn't plan on buying him new jeans until the last possible minute before school started again, for fear they would be too short by the time the first day rolled around. "It's my job to worry about you," she said. "I love you."

"I know," Aden said, and Lexa didn't need to be able to see his face to know he was rolling his eyes again. "I love you too. But it's _one night_. I'll see you tomorrow."

Lexa's heart swelled at the words, and somehow it felt right that the first time he said them was in an exasperated huff. "See you tomorrow," she said, planting a quick kiss on his head before letting him go join the rest of her family, who were headed up to the lake house tonight to start getting things ready. She and Clarke would join them tomorrow.

She heard Clarke laugh as she released Aden from a quick squeeze, and then Aden turned and waved to them both as he followed her sisters and brother-in-law out to their cars for the drive. Clarke slipped her hand into Lexa's, brushing her lips against Lexa's shoulder before propping her chin there. "He told me to not let you worry too much," she said. "It's almost like he knows you or something." 

Lexa scrunched her nose. "Funny, that," she said. 

"You know they'll take good care of him," Clarke said. "Because they know you would kick their asses if they didn't."

Lexa laughed. "I know. It's just strange, after four months of always having him right across the hall."

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm sure there will be _someone_ across the hall at the hotel, so you can still worry about someone hearing us if you really want to." Clarke grinned, and darted away from the light swat Lexa aimed at her shoulder blade. "Just be warned that I don't plan to make it easy."

Lexa felt blood rushing to her cheeks. "For me to stay quiet?"

"That," Clarke said, "but also for you to worry... or be able to think at all..."

And now the blood was rushing downward again, leaving the pink in her cheeks but already starting to have the desired effect of making Lexa's concerns seem distant and unimportant. "Aden who?" she asked. 

"That's what I thought," Clarke said. "Let's go."

* * *

There was champagne waiting for them in the hotel room when they arrived, but it stayed in its bucket of ice until they had divested themselves of their dresses (and hung them carefully in the closet, since they would be wearing them again tomorrow) and announced their arrival to any neighbors they might have. 

"We should have put it on the nightstand," Clarke grumbled. "It's so far away."

"I'll get it," Lexa said. She'd regained enough sensation in her limbs to make it the few steps across the room to retrieve the bottle and two glasses. She popped the cork (without sending it shooting across the room or having a geyser of bubbly come spewing out after) and poured, leaving the bottle in its bucket next to the bed. She handed one of the flutes to Clarke and crawled back under the covers beside her. "To my amazing, talented, brilliant, passionate, strong, beautiful wife," she said, clinking their glasses together. 

"You took the words right out of my mouth," Clarke said, tipping her face up for a champagne-flavored kiss. 

Lexa shrugged. "Your mouth has already proven to be quite eloquent without words," she said. 

"And yet I think it still has a few things to say," Clarke teased, her voice a low purr. "But it might have to wait..."

* * *

Lexa lifted her head from Clarke's shoulder and stared down at her, wide-eyed. It was late or maybe early, and the champagne was gone and she ought to be sleeping. She _had_ been sleeping, almost, but then she'd realized:

"You're my _wife_."

Clarke cracked open her eyes and a slow smile crept across her face. "Yes, I am," she said, her fingers trailing lazily over Lexa's skin under the sheets. "You know what else?"

"What?" Lexa asked.

"You're _my_ wife."

"I am," Lexa said. 

"Also you're drunk."

Lexa giggled. She honest-to-god giggled, and then she snorted because she'd giggled, which made Clarke start to laugh, and after that there was no stopping either of them, until they had to force themselves to stop to catch their breath, and that was how the fell asleep, tangled in each other's arms with laughter still on their lips.

* * *

"Auntie Lexa! Auntie Clarke! You missed it!" Adria said, charging up to them and trying to throw her arms around both of them at once. 

"Missed what?" Clarke asked, catching her up and spinning her around before setting her down again. 

"Jakey tried to catch a duck! In a _bucket_!" Adria said. 

"How did that work out for him?" Clarke asked.

"Not very well," Adria said. "Which is probably a good thing because what would we do with a duck in a bucket?"

"I have no idea..." Clarke said, her voice trailing off as she looked around. Lexa hadn't told her much about the lake house, but from the look of surprise and awe on Clarke's face, she suspected she'd been imagining a ramshackle little cabin, which this definitely was not. It was older (it had been in their mom's family for at least two generations and maybe more before it had been passed to her, and subsequently to them) and had been built to have a cabin-y feel, but it was definitely a house, with a second story and all. It had been kept in excellent repair, and updates and upgrades had been made over the years. If it weren't for the lack of insulation and a proper heating system, it could have been a comfortable family home. 

"No one else is here yet," Adria told them. "Do you want to see inside, Auntie Clarke? I can show you your room! You have to share with Auntie Lexa. Obviously." 

"Obviously," Lexa said. "Go ahead," she added to Clarke. "I'll bring the dresses and stuff in."

"Are you sure?" Clarke asked, but Adria was already tugging her toward the house, impatient to start her tour. The lake house, and the lake, was her favorite place in the entire world, as she reminded them repeatedly every time they came. 

"I've got it," Lexa reassured her. They hadn't packed much because they were only staying for the weekend; they would come up for a longer stay later in the summer, maybe, after Aden was done with summer camp. 

By the time Clarke was done with the tour, Lexa had unpacked their shared suitcase into the drawers and hung up their dresses to allow any wrinkles that might have developed to relax out. She stood staring at them side-by-side, and Clarke came up behind her and propped her chin on Lexa's shoulder. "Hey," she said softly. 

"Hey," Lexa said, turning her head to look at her out of the corner of her eye. "It still doesn't feel real. It's like everything is exactly the same, but also... not." She tipped her head against Clarke's. "Does that even make sense?"

She felt Clarke nod. "It does," she said. "On the one hand, it's just a piece of paper, and it doesn't change who we are or how we feel. On the other, it's like... people crave validation, and this gives us that. It's an official stamp of approval on what we've always known, so people have to see it, and recognize it. Or something." 

Lexa wasn't sure that was it, exactly, but she didn't have any better way to explain it, so she let it go. She loosened Clarke's hold on her enough to turn and face her, draping her arms around her shoulders and nuzzling her cheek until Clarke tipped up her face for a kiss. "You're my wife," she whispered against her lips. 

Clarke laughed, a soft exhale. "You're my wife too, you know."

"I _know_ ," Lexa breathed, knowing she sounded ridiculous and not caring, because it was _awesome_ in the most literal sense of the word, and she didn't plan to let that feeling go until she absolutely had to, and there was a part of her that thought – and hoped – that she never would.

* * *

"Family and friends, may I present the happy couple, Clarke and Lexa!" 

They entered the small pavilion that had been erected amidst the trees through a cascade of flower petals flung enthusiastically into the air by Adria, Tris, and Aden. Jake had some too, but he seemed more inclined to chuck them straight at the ground, and the basket was hastily taken from him when he started to eye them like they might be food.

The ceremony yesterday had been small; the party today was much bigger. The usual suspects from Lexa's family were there, of course, and a huge contingent of Clarke's friends, as well as her mother and a few other members of her extended family. There were also people who had been attending the Fourth of July party since their mom was the one throwing it, people who had watched Lexa grow up and who were overjoyed to have the opportunity to share this special day with her and Clarke, who they welcomed with open arms (both literally and figuratively). 

Not wanting to throw tradition entirely to the wind, or disappoint those who would expect to usual trappings of a wedding, they did share a first dance, and tossed their bouquets (which Luna had taken after the ceremony and made sure were kept in water so they didn't wilt overnight), and when everyone had made themselves a plate from the groaning buffet tables (part catered, part potluck, part the product of the brigade of grills that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere for the occasion), there were toasts.

Luna stood up first, with Anya at her side looking slightly grumpy, like they'd flipped a coin to decide who got to do the talking and she'd lost. "I've always believed that when something is right, you know it. You just do. When Lexa brought Clarke to meet us for the first time, only days after meeting Clarke herself, we knew. We knew our sister had finally met her match. As we got to know Clarke better, that feeling only grew. She was smart and funny and fierce and loyal and strong and loving... all words that could be used to describe Lexa, too. They were equals, and in some ways opposites, but they balanced each other and brought out the best in each other, and every day we are grateful that Lexa listened—"

"For once," Anya interrupted.

Luna laughed. "— to us that night when we told her not to run away from it, that she was allowed to be happy. Every day we are grateful that Clarke not only took our crazy family in stride, but embraced it, embraced us, and when the need arose, embraced the two of them becoming three without a moment's hesitation. Thank you, Clarke, for bringing light and laughter, patience and understanding, persistence and just the right amount of stubbornness into Lexa's life. Thank you for being you. Words cannot adequately express how much it means to us every time we see the light in Lexa's eyes when she looks at you... and when we see that same light and love reflected when you look at her. Thank you for being part of our family, and we look forward to all of the Christmases and Easters and Independence Days—"

"And Sundays!" Adria said.

"—to come." Luna raised her glass. "Congratulations." 

Lexa raised her glass in her sisters' direction and took a sip, and she saw Clarke out of the corner of her eye doing the same. When Lexa glanced over, Clarke leaned in and whispered, "They like me! They really, really like me!" and Lexa laughed. 

Clarke's friend Raven stood up next, leaning heavily on the table until she got her braced leg under herself. "Well _that's_ not a hard act to follow or anything," she said, and everyone laughed. "I'm going to try to keep this short, since I know you all want to get back to eating and then throwing yourselves off that dock a few times... but wait 30 minutes! Safety first!" More laughter, and Raven smiled. 

"I've known Clarke a long time. We've definitely had our ups and downs, but somehow through it all we've managed to stay friends. I've seen her through a lot of relationships, and when she introduced us to Lexa a week after they met, I'll be honest – I was skeptical. Sure, they seemed happy enough, but who doesn't in that first week? I thought, 'Time will tell.' And then life happened, and things got crazy, and we didn't get to see each other or talk as much as we might have liked. But every time I did see her, or even just heard her voice when she talked about Lexa, it wasn't like any of the times before. She just _lit up_. Even when things weren't easy – and she's really good at putting on a happy face when she needs to, putting her own feelings and needs aside to take care of others, so sometimes it's hard to tell when things aren't easy – she always seemed so sure."

Lexa felt Clarke shift beside her, and when she looked at her wife's face, she didn't look exactly happy. Maybe wary would be the best way to describe it, like she wasn't sure what Raven was going to say next, and she wasn't sure she wanted to hear it. Lexa found her hand under the table and squeezed, silently asking Clarke to give Raven the chance to finish, to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"When I saw them together, saw for myself how supportive Lexa was of Clarke, saw that it wasn't one-sided like so many of her relationships in the past had been, it made me a believer... or at least a hoper. Or a believer in hope. I dunno, whatever, Jim, I'm a scientist, not a poet!" She flashed a grin at Anya's guffaw, even as the joke flew over a lot of the audience's heads. "Anyway, that's pretty much all to say, I believe in your guys, and in your love for each other, so don't let me down, all right? Cheers!"

"Cheers!" everyone echoed, and a murmur of voices started to rise as people turned to their plates, assuming that the toasts were done. But Lexa noticed a flurry of motion at the table where most of her family was seated, saw Tris leaned in to Aden, and then getting up to hiss something into Anya's ear. Anya stood up, started to clink her knife against her glass, but the glasses were actually plastic, so she let out an ear-piercing whistle instead.

"Hold up!" she said. "We've got one more!" Lexa's stomach clenched, worried about what her oldest sister might have to say that she didn't feel had been encapsulated in Luna's speech, but then she reached out to nudge Aden, who stood up, his cheeks flushed like he was embarrassed at the fuss.

But he squared his shoulders and turned to face them. "Um. I just want to say something to Lexa and Clarke, because... because I want them to know. I promise it will be short." He took a deep breath, and Lexa found herself holding hers. "After my mom died, it was like my whole world fell apart... and kept falling apart. I didn't think I would ever feel like I had a home and a family again." His voice cracked, and his face went from pink to crimson. Lexa wanted to get up, to go to him and protect him, but he stood his ground and kept going. "Then I met Lexa and Clarke. And I knew you had just met and were still busy falling in love and probably the last thing you wanted was to suddenly be responsible for a kid. But you never made me feel that. Even when we thought it was just temporary, you never made me feel unwelcome or unwanted. You never once made me feel afraid that you would choose each other over me. Instead, you chose each other _and_ me, every day, over and over. And I just want you to know that when you said 'I do' it wasn't just one of the best days of your lives – it was one of the best days of mine, too. Because when you promised each other forever, I know that promise was to me, too. Even if you didn't say it. You didn't need to. You've always made sure I knew." He looked around, his shoulders rising and falling again in a tiny shrug. "That's all." 

This time Lexa didn't hesitate. She was out of her chair before he's fully sunk back into his own, and when she opened her arms he crashed into them, and then Clarke's arms were around both of them, and if there was a dry eye in the place, well, Lexa sure as hell didn't see it through the blur of her own tears.

* * *

After food had been consumed, the party really started to get going. Any remaining formality regarding the fact that it was also a wedding reception dropped away, and people started to scatter, heading off in one direction to play various yard games (Lexa wasn't sure how well the bocce game would go considering the trees, but the players had found a reasonably clear stretch so they might be all right), or in the other toward the water. She and Clarke ducked inside to change out of their dresses and into bathing suits and shorts, and when Clarke turned around to show off her bikini, Lexa itched to pull it right back off her. No one would notice they were missing for a little while, right?

Except everyone would notice they were missing, and they would never hear the end of it. So she only let herself get a little distracted, making sure that when they left the room, Clarke's lips and cheeks both had a rosy glow. 

They made their way down to the dock, where canoes and kayaks were stacked up as people loaded and unloaded, then took off racing – sometimes literally – across the water. "Don't forget your life jacket!" Lexa called to Aden as he and Tris eagerly awaited their turn in one of the boats, and he dutifully shrugged one on and snapped the clasps. She couldn't help laughing as he and Tris nearly overturned the kayak getting in, and then struggled to coordinate their paddle strokes to actually move more than a few feet. Finally Tris started yelling out, "Left! Right! Left!" until they got it sorted out. 

Further out in the water, there was a giant inflatable island, and an even bigger game of King (or Queen) of the Mountain as people tried to climb on and the current monarch tried to repel their advances. Lexa watched as Adria slipped and went sprawling into the water, ready to dive in after her until she came up, sputtering and laughing, and paddled her way back to the dock, which she clung to the edge and looked up at them.

"Are you coming in?" she asked. "The water is nice!"

Lexa dipped in her toe, and even though she knew it would be cooler beneath the surface, she was inclined to agree. The day was shaping up to be a hot one, and she could feel sweat beading and trickling down her spine. She looked around, then pressed a finger to her lips in a 'shh' gesture before launching herself out over Adria's head in a shallow dive. She swam under water until she ran out of air, then popped up and waved to Clarke on the dock before swimming back. 

"I saw that!" Luna shouted from shore. "You know the rules!"

"And you know I always break them!" Lexa yelled back. "And so did you, before you got old and boring!" She winked at Adria, who giggled. "I bet you can't even do it anymore!" 

Even from this distance Lexa could see the shift in Luna's features. They were close enough in age, and in temperament, that there had always been a (mostly friendly, largely harmless) rivalry between them. They were both competitive by nature, and it had always been easy to goad the other by turning it into a challenge. Time and age had mellowed them, but the set of Luna's jaw told her that some things would never change. Luna handed Jake off to Derrick, stripped out of her shorts, and in a few long strides, she was sprinting down the dock, arching off the end and gliding into the water more elegantly than Lexa had ever managed. 

Lexa realized too late that she ought to be swimming as far and as fast as she could. As it was, she had just enough time to suck in a breath before a hand on her ankle yanked her under, and then she and Luna were tussling in the water, coming up for air and then plunging under again. They only stopped when a giant wave sloshed over them as Anya cannonballed almost into the middle of the fight. 

Somewhere along the line Clarke had slipped into the water, maybe concerned that Luna might drown her wife before they'd had a chance at happily ever after, or maybe she'd decided it was a better option than risking being run over by the next person to come barreling down the dock. Lexa swam over to her, slipping an arm around her under the water. "They're bad influences," she said, doing her best to look innocent.

Clarke snorted, then grimaced as a few drops of water went up her nose. "Yeah... pretty sure you started that one, babe."

Lexa opened her eyes as wide as they would go. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Clarke shook her head. "You're ridiculous," she said, pressing her lips to Lexa's. "And I love you."

* * *

The afternoon passed too quickly, filled with dips in the water (but no more dives off the dock, because they didn't want any of the kids, or anyone else who didn't know from years of experience exactly how deep the water was, following their example and getting hurt) and paddling around in boats, chicken fights (where Anya and Raven quickly rose to the rank of reigning champions) and assaults on the raft island, cake and watching Raven and the kids build a catapult for the reusable water 'balloons' that Luna had found so they didn't have to worry about shrapnel from the real thing hurting the wildlife, and laughing until their stomachs ached and more cake. 

As the sun dipped toward the horizon, some of the guests started to leave, but tiki torches and fairy lights were lit to keep things festive for those who chose to remain. The house was big enough that it could fit a fair number of guests if they didn't mind sharing rooms and potentially sleeping on horizontal surfaces that weren't necessarily intended to be beds, and others had brought tents that they pitched wherever they could find a flat enough space between the trees. 

Finally the sun disappeared completely, and Lexa heard Clarke's breath catch as she looked up and saw the sky full of stars. "There's so many of them," she breathed. "I've never seen so many..."

"Not much light pollution out here," Lexa said. "The first time we came out here, it actually scared me, how many stars there were. Like on an existential level. I felt so small, so insignificant..."

"And then Mom told you that you were made of stars." Lexa twisted around to see Anya with a blanket tucked under her arm and a small cooler in her hand, while the other hand hovered near Raven's elbow, ready to steady her if she stumbled on the slope down to the dock. 

"You remember that?" Lexa asked.

"Of course I remember that," Anya said. "You should grab a blanket or some chairs or something. They're about to start."

"What are about to start?" Clarke asked.

"The fireworks," Lexa said. "What else?"

"I didn't know there was going to be fireworks," Clarke said. "Is that safe?"

"Not here," Lexa said. "The town hires professionals. They set up a barge out in the middle of the lake, and there's pretty much a perfect view from every dock and beach all the way around." 

Clarke's eyes lit up. "You go find us blankets," she said. "I'll go find Aden."

Lexa went up to the house and dug around in one of the closets until she found the stash of blankets that were approved for outdoor use (as opposed to the ones that were meant to stay inside and actually put on beds) and grabbed two, just in case, before heading back to the dock. She spread it out next to Anya and Raven, who were leaned up against each other. Clarke showed up a few minutes later with Aden, Tris, and Adria in tow, followed not long after by Luna and Derrick, who had finally managed to get an overstimulated and over-sugared toddler to bed. 

"I hope the noise of the fireworks doesn't wake him up," Clarke said. 

"I put on white noise," Luna assured her. "And usually once he's out, he's out. It should be fine." 

Anya opened the cooler and pulled out two bottles, and Raven handed two stacks of plastic cups, one red and one blue. They poured and started handing out cups. "Red is champagne, blue is sparkling cider," Anya said. "Choose wisely." She cast Tris a sidelong look, and Tris rolled her eyes. 

"A toast to the brides," Anya said, lifting her glass, and they all took a sip. 

A second later a whistle cut the air, followed by a loud pop-bang, and color splashed across the sky, brilliant and bold and ephemeral. The glow had barely faded before it was replaced by another, and another, and then several at once. Lexa tipped her head to rest on Clarke's shoulder, and for a few seconds she watched the fireworks reflected in Clarke's eyes before turning her gaze back to the sky. 

The display went on for almost twenty minutes before the last twinkling spark flickered and disappeared, and for a moment the darkness felt absolute, until the stars burned their way through the haze of smoke left behind. 

"Beautiful," Clarke whispered, close enough that Lexa could feel her breath on her cheek, and she didn't need to look to know Clarke wasn't talking about the fireworks, or not _only_ about the fireworks. 

"I know you are, but what am I?" Lexa teased, turning her head so that their foreheads pressed together and their noses brushed.

"My wife," Clarke said.

"Your wife," Lexa agreed, and kissed Clarke until Anya (or maybe Raven, or maybe both) grumbled at them to get a room. 

Lexa raised her hand with the middle three fingers extended, and Luna laughed. "Go on," she said. "We'll make sure Aden gets to bed." 

She pulled back from Clarke then and looked over at where Aden was sharing a blanket with Tris and Adria, and she could tell he was blushing even in moonlight, but she thought she caught just a hint of a smile. She got up and extended a hand, pulling him into her arms when he took it. "Think you can manage for one more night without us?" she asked. 

He nodded, his face pressed tight into her neck, and she rubbed his back for a few seconds until his fingers weren't digging quite so hard into her skin. "Love you forever," she whispered, and then held him a little longer until his sniffling stopped. 

"Love you too forever," he whispered back, rubbing hastily at his eyes. "Now go away and stop embarrassing me!" He grinned. 

Lexa waited for Clarke to hug him good night, then held out her hand and Clarke took it, and they made their way to their room, which was one of the few in the house that actually had a lock on the door (or a door on the door, for that matter... many of the room made do with curtains). She turned to look at Clarke, opening her mouth to say something, she wasn't even sure what, but Clarke's mouth was on hers before she could even draw breath, and in a few short steps Clarke had her backed up to the bed, and her knees buckled and she sat down. 

Her last thought, as Clarke made quick work of their clothing, was, _Maybe the fireworks aren't over after all..._

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I am on a posting hiatus for July... but I'm sure many of you guessed that this might be coming! ;-) This will be my last post until August - hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> And yes, I know that the phrase "a more perfect union" is from the Constitution, not the Declaration of Independence. Call it artistic license!
> 
> For those curious, this is Lexa's ring:  
> 
> 
> And this is Clarke's:  
> 


End file.
